


Soul of a Man

by transmarkcohen



Category: Rent - Larson
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-04
Updated: 2019-01-04
Packaged: 2019-10-04 01:09:35
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17294807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/transmarkcohen/pseuds/transmarkcohen
Summary: Roger doesn’t realize he’s trans.





	1. She’s In Love

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HeadlinesBreadlinesBlowMyMind](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeadlinesBreadlinesBlowMyMind/gifts).



            When I moved into the loft, it was May of 1982. I remember this because a week earlier Maureen had frantically called me about "desperately needing a female friend to complain to about her struggles in love". She had chosen me. Mainly, I think, because we had been best friends since highs school and even before. However, our frinedndship was the strongest in high school. I was never entirely sure why. Anyway, when I arrived at the loft, baggage in tow, Maureen rushed to greet me.  
             "How are you!" she exclaimed. Maureen was like that. An...Unconventional Type, I think I'll call her. I nodded and she led me up the stairs to the actual loft. I had worn a blouse and skirt that day, because I wanted to emulate the trail blazers of the feminist movement-Elizabeth Cady Stantion, Susan B. Wells, people such as that. I was such a huge fan of them that my fashoion sense had turned out like the 1800s. By that point, at least.  
             Maureen led me into the loft. On the couch sat three men watching TV-one in a blue hoodie and a loose t-shirt and jeans at the far left end, with unbrushed hair, and it was sort of an auburn blondish color. Next to him was a dark skinned man with something that resembled a tiny paper flute in his mouth. (I'm aware now that it was a joint.) I had no knowledge-or maybe just very little knowledge-of drugs until this point. Next to him was another dark skinned man, who seemed to have a more relaxed attitude about himself. He wore an unzipped jacket that certainly wasn't any kind of fashion statement. Maureen burst in through the door after me.  
           "Guys!" She exclaimed. "This is my good friend,”-I didn’t yet have the name Roger, and I’m not going to write what my name was before-“I've known her since high school." I gave a little wave to the men on the couch. The first one looked up. He had glasses. Why hadn’t I noticed that before?  
            "Hi," he said. He looked almost...warily at me? I didn't understand. He still hasn't quite explained.  
             Maureen pouted. "Babe, be nicer!" she said. I raised my eyebrows.  
             “You didn't tell me you were dating anyone," I said, my suitcase suddenly feeling very heavy in my hands.  
             "Oh, sorry," she said. She went over and kissed the man on the cheek. "This is my boyfriend. His name is Mark." "Hi," said Mark, again, still with that oddly wary look.  
             "You interested in the revolution of rights for all human beings?" I grinned and nearly dropped my suitcase out of excitement.  
              "Yes!" I exclaimed. "I'm an avid feminist.”  
              "Oh," said Mark, his voice becoming dry. He leaned away from me on the couch.  
              "You want something?" The second man asked, holding up the rolled-up paper.  
              “That’s Collins," Maureen attempted to whisper to me. "He wants to be a professor but I don't see why, seeing as he keeps smoking weed all the time."  
              "Weed?" I was confused.  
              "Marijuana," the third man interjected. "I'm Benny." He glanced at Maurreen. "Maureen, is your friend here going to live with us? I don't think we have room for her.”  
               “Don’t be silly!” Maureen said, overly cheerful. “Of course we have room! I’ll show her right away.” Maureen hurriedly rushed down the hall, and I had no choice but to follow her to what would be my room.


	2. Sex and Gender

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story may have a few POV shifts.

      Later, after Maureen’s friend had moved in and gotten settled in an empty room at the back of the loft, Mark and Maureen were talking in their room. Mark sat on the bed while Maureen straddled his legs, playing with his hair as Mark pointed out something he thought extremely important that he'd noticed.   
     "Maureen," he said, occassionally returning the favor of playng with his girlfriend's hair. "I’m getting major trans signals from your friend. "   
     Maureen leaned back a bit, trying to keep her balance on Mark's legs. "Why, Pookie?" she asked, throwing in a classic Maureen pout because she desperately wanted to have sex but Mark wanted to talk about gender.   
     "Well," Mark began,"Your friend gives off...certain vibes. It's like, like whatever Collins was talking about. Where you just kind of _know_ someone is gay but for transness. " Maureen fiddled with the zipper on Mark's hoodie.   
     "If I agree, can we fuck sooner?" she asked, attempting to be sultry, but she hadn't quite perfected that yet.   
      Mark sighed. "Whether you agree or not is not going to affect our sex."   
      "Sure seems like it," Maureen muttered.   
      Mark laughed just slightly and leaned up to kiss her, his hand on her cheek. Mark pulled away, smiling. "Satisfied?" he asked.   
      Maureen folded her arms. She was getting good at balancing in this position. "No," she said. "But I'll let you talk because I want you to get through your gender theory lecture so that we can, you know, sex it up in here."   
      Mark laughed-actually laughed-this time. "Sex it up?" he asked.   
      "Hey! You say weird things all the time related to sex! Remember last week with the dildos and the-'   
      "Maureen, shush."   
      Maureen pouted, but she said "fine". She could be extremely submissive when she wanted to. Which was rarely.   
      "I just think your friend is trans-but, see, here's the thing. I'm worried that your frined might be...a bad feminist.”   
      "No," Maureen said absentmindedly.   
      "I mean, one of those transphobic feminists," Mark corrected himself. "Like the ones that got Ms. Smith kicked out of that record company-"   
      "Record, schmecord," Maureen interjected. She pushed Mark onto the bed. "Can we _please_ have sex now?"   
Mark grinned.   
      "Soon," he said. "I don't know, you can...uh, take my clothes off while I talk, I guess?"   
      "Okay!" Maureen excitedly and quickly got to work. First unzipping the hoodie, then talking off her boyfriend’s shirt, then - "it's kind of a proven thing, at least by all the queer people I know. We can just sense when someone is queer. Sure, it's not the most accurate thing ever, but it's proven pretty accurate in my life"-then the pants-"and all I'm saying is, I'm pretty sure your friend is trans."   
       "Alright," Maureen said, in a low voice, just barely smiling. She kissed Mark. He kissed back-thank god you didn't need gender theory to kiss-and then he started talking again.   
        "So...sex?" he asked.   
        Maureen laughed. "Duh, sex!" she responded. "Let's go hard."   
        "Sure."   
         And so she slapped him.


End file.
